


The Kidnapped Omega Job

by pterawaters



Category: Leverage
Genre: A Very Distinctive Scent, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Canon-Typical Violence, Kidnapping, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 12:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30123060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pterawaters/pseuds/pterawaters
Summary: When Eliot catches the scent of an omega in trouble, he and his partners work together to free her from her kidnappers and get her to safety.
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer
Comments: 19
Kudos: 53
Collections: Ptera's Follower Celebration Fics





	The Kidnapped Omega Job

**Author's Note:**

> A while back, I hit a follower milestone on tumblr. To celebrate, I polled my followers for their favorite fandoms, characters, settings, and tropes. I then took the choices with the most votes and turned them into fics. This is the third celebration fic! I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Favorite character: Alec Hardison and Eliot Spencer (2 votes each), The OT3 (1 vote)  
> Favorite setting: Portland Brewhouse (4 votes)  
> Favorite trope: ABO AU (2 votes), Amnesia fic, Major Injury, and One bed (1 vote each)

“I don’t like it,” Parker says, dropping the book onto Hardison’s desk.

Picking it up, Hardison waggles the book around a few times. “This is one of the greatest pieces of literature in the English-speaking world. How can you not like _Hamlet_?”

Shrugging, Parker perches on a stool, one knee up against her chest, and opens the bottled iced tea she’d taken from the fridge. “Everyone died at the end. If I wanted a story where everyone died, I’d just look around.”

Hardison’s mouth opens and closes soundlessly for a moment. “Babe, that is _dark._ ”

Parker grins around the mouth of the bottle as she takes a sip. “Thanks.”

“That’s not—” Hardison scoffs and waggles the book again. “It’s a famous tragedy! What did you expect?”

Before Parker can answer him, the back door of the brew pub opens and Eliot stalks in, a snarl on his face. “Bring up the cameras,” he barks, pointing to Hardison’s display wall and taking the tea Parker hands him, downing a few quick swallows before handing it back to her.

“The— Why?” Hardison asks, even as he’s doing it. As much as he loves riling up a testy alpha, he knows that look on Eliot’s face. Hardison likes his body _alive_ , thank you very much.

Eliot paces behind Hardison like a caged lion. “I caught a scent on the way here. Omega in trouble. I followed it as far as I could, but I…” He stands over Hardison and points to one corner of the display. “I smelled it over there. Can you go back, I don’t know, fifteen minutes or so?”

“How can you tell the omega was in trouble?” Parker asks, just as unafraid of Eliot as she always is. Not that Hardison is _afraid_ of their boyfriend, but… Look, some things are about instinct, right?

Eliot sets his hand on Hardison’s shoulder, his touch more careful than Alec would’ve expected from him in this state. “It was a very distinctive scent.” He takes a sharp breath and points to the screen again. “That’s it.”

Hardison backs up a few seconds and steps through the video slowly. The images paint a picture that makes a knot form at the pit of his stomach. A young woman walks along the sidewalk, and all of a sudden, she’s grabbed by a larger figure who puts his hand over her mouth.

“In broad daylight?” Alec asks, shaking his head. Yeah, maybe he’s a thief, but he only ever takes money, or things. Never _people_.

“Did you get a scent off that guy?” Parker asks, pointing to the figure that pulled the woman into the shadows.

Eliot shakes his head. “Is there another angle? Some way we can see what happened to her? The scent dissipated pretty quickly, so is she in the building, or in a vehicle?”

Hardison shakes his head at the miracles he’s asked to perform daily and consults his mental map of the CCTV cameras in the area. “There’s an ATM camera that might give us something,” he tells them, breaking through the (laughable) firewall around the ATM’s storage system. Pulling up the video, he sets it to the correct time stamp and hits play.

The woman is dragged into the back of a light-colored panel van in the alley. As soon as the door slams closed, the van shifts out of park and rumbles down the alley.

“Can we see where they go?” Parker asks Hardison, but he’s already pulling the traffic cam at the nearest intersection.

“There they go, up Barley Street,” he says, pulling up the next camera, and then the next. “As long as they don’t leave the city, I should be able to keep tabs on them.”

“Through the whole city?” Eliot asks, a worried look on his face.

Shaking his head with a sigh, Hardison replies, “Yeah, I know. This is a total police state we’re living in. Good thing I know how to use the tech better than the pigs do.”

“Speaking of pigs…” Parker takes one last swallow of her iced tea and hops down from the stool she’s been sitting on. “We need a cop car and some uniforms.”

“Easy enough,” Eliot says, and then the two of them are heading back out, leaving Hardison behind.

“I’ll just, like, coordinate from here,” he calls after them, muttering about ungrateful alphas who have no idea what he does for them on a daily basis. He thinks about calling in Nate and Sophie, but it hasn’t been long since they gave up the game. They probably don’t miss it yet, not even with an omega girl kidnapped for god knows what reasons.

Instead, he simultaneously writes a script to follow the van through Portland’s network of traffic and security cameras, and finds a still with a good enough shot of the omega’s face that he can run it through his facial recognition program. He constrains the search to Oregon ID-holders with the omega designation. Hardison doubts a person like this would be in any of the convict databases. If she doesn’t come up, he’ll widen the search to other states in the area. Maybe even British Columbia. She looked carefree in the moments before she was taken, like she might have been on vacation.

Alec doesn’t notice Amy’s appearance in the back room until she’s standing beside him, eyes on the video loop he’s got up in the corner of his display. Remembering what happened to her when he and the others were on a job, and only Parker was here to help Amy after she’d been kidnapped for ransom, Hardison minimizes the window. “Sorry about that.”

“What happened?” Amy asks. “Who is she?”

“Don’t know yet,” Hardison tells her. “Eliot smelled an omega in trouble and we found _this_. We’re trying to locate her now.”

“She’s an omega?”

Hardison nods.

Shaking her head, Amy says, “I really shouldn’t be surprised by how evil some people can be.”

“I’ve been doing this for a while…” Hardison tells her, wondering if she’s ever picked up on the fact that he’s an omega too. She’s a beta, so she might not have. “…and I’m still surprised now and then.”

“Well, I’ll let you get back to it. Good luck.” Amy gives his shoulder a friendly squeeze as she heads back to the kitchen. Hardison almost asks her to stay, because he could use the company, but he knows she has work to do keeping the brewpub running.

The computer gives a cheerful ding, and the facial recognition spits out four possible matches. Preliminary searches rule out one as having died of cancer the year before, and another has a credit card charge from 30 minutes ago in Chicago. That leaves two. Either Jessica Santana or Suzanna George is having a very bad day.

Well, it’s fairly easy to find the cell phone number for Jessica’s alpha husband. Alec puts his headset on and dials the number. Obviously, he’s spoofing the number of Jessica’s office, for verisimilitude.

“Hello?”

Making his voice as soft and nonthreatening as he can (which, given the fact that he’s an omega is pretty damn nonthreatening), Hardison says, “Oh, hi! Mr. Santana, right?”

“This is.” His voice is gruff. Alec hates how stereotypical he sounds. It’s _boring_.

“Hi, this is Antoine, from Jessica’s office? I know it’s Saturday, but I’ve been trying to get in contact with her regarding an emergency here. I’m having trouble getting through to her cell. Is she there with you?”

Mr. Santana clears his throat, then says, “Yeah, yeah. She’s right here.”

“Hello?” The woman who answers sounds soft and kind, like she might be smiling. Alec looks at her driver’s license photo and imagines what her smile might look like.

“Oh, sorry! We’ve got it covered, after all. Enjoy your day off, sweetie!”

Hardison hangs up and looks at the last photo on his list. Suzanna George is missing.

He pings her cell phone, just in case her kidnappers are idiots, and it turns out they are. There’s a strong signal coming from a street on the south end of the city. It’s still moving, and Hardison wonders whether Eliot and Parker are going to be able to catch up.

Headset still on, he calls Parker’s phone. “Hey!” She sounds breathless, exhilarated. As much as Alec hates doing the things that give Parker that sound in her voice, he wishes he was there to see her face.

“Hey, baby. How’s it going tracking down that cruiser?”

There’s a muffled yell, and then a thudding sound. Parker says, “We’ve got it under control. Well, Eliot does.”

“I’m sending a signal to your phone,” he tells her. “You can follow it to our missing omega. And turn on your comms!”

Parker says, “I _knew_ you were going to find out who she is.”

“Suzanna George,” Alec tells her, maybe puffing up a little bit with pride. “I’m gonna jump in Lucille 3, meet you there?”

“You sure you don’t want to just stay in the office? Run things from there?” The whump of a closing car door cuts off her last word, followed shortly by the wail of a police siren.

“I’m sure!” Hardison shouts to be sure she hears him. “I can’t let this omega be on her own!”

“See you there, baby,” Parker says, giving out a whoop of excitement and a laugh just before she ends the call. Hardison

~*~

Portland isn’t exactly San Francisco, but there are several hills with a decent grade, and Eliot finds himself driving down one of them in a PPD police cruiser, siren and lights going. Coming up and over a peak a bit too fast, they actually get a bit of hang time. The undercarriage of the car scrapes the concrete a bit when they land and bottom out, making Parker exclaim with excitement and laugh. Eliot can’t help but grin over at her. He’s never been with another alpha before Parker. He’s known plenty, in the service and afterward, but none of them are like her.

Sometimes, Eliot thinks it’s easy to love her because she’s broken in a lot of the same ways he is. They understand each other in ways no one else can. None of them are very outspoken about this relationship they have, but Eliot often thinks about how he will respond if anyone asks him how he can stand sharing Hardison with another alpha. What sort of alpha won’t fight to keep their omega only for themselves? Like God and Nature intended?

Eliot knows he’ll tell them that assumption is a bunch of omegist bullshit, and how can he _not_ share with Parker, when she feels like the half of his soul he’d lost the first time he’d shot a man in the name of a country that didn’t love him nearly as much as he loved it? How can he not see the way his two favorite people love each other and do everything in his power to keep them together?

Looking at her phone, a grin still on her face, Parker tells him, “Alec says we need to go south.”

Eliot doesn’t question the fact that Hardison has located the omega less than thirty minutes since Eliot caught the scent, he just turns south. He glances over at Parker and asks her, “Catch the names of either of those cops? We should send them some apology coffee.”

“And donuts,” Parker agrees, holding onto the handle above her window with her right hand and opening the glove compartment with her left. She takes a few papers out and reads them as Eliot races south along the streets of Portland. “Looks like at least one of them is named Officer Walker.”

“Make a note,” Eliot says, dodging around a slow-moving delivery truck. He shakes his head. “Saturday drivers. Am I right?”

Parker laughs.

There’s a crackle in his ear, and then Hardison is talking to him. “Hey, it looks like they’re still on the move, but you’re getting close.”

“Where are you?” Eliot asks him, hearing the slightest echo of his own voice through Parker’s earpiece.

“A mile behind you, stuck in traffic,” he says. “I’ll catch up as soon as I can, but don’t let them get away. They could decide to separate Suzanna from her cell phone at any second, and that’s gonna make it about a hundred times harder to track them down.”

“Got it,” Eliot says, stepping on the gas. Parker whoops with excitement again and Eliot’s heart clenches with how much he loves her.

After a minute of dodging cars, heading steadily south, Parker says, “We need to make a right turn soon. Probably at that light.”

Eliot’s dodging several cars and coming up quickly on the intersection. He doesn’t have the brain space to dedicate to making words, but he grunts so Parker knows he heard her. He turns right.

“Up ahead,” Parker says, pointing through the windshield. “That white van, three blocks up.”

Eliot steps on the gas. The sirens make the drivers around him stupid, but mostly they get out of the way, parting for his car like sea before Moses. Eliot bites the inside of his cheek, punishing himself for comparing himself to someone as godly as Moses. He’s about as ungodly as you can get.

As he pulls up behind the white van, obviously stalking it, the police sirens blaring, he’s sure the driver’s not gonna stop. They’re gonna have a high-speed chase through the streets of Portland and someone is gonna get killed unless he’s able to somehow stop the van.

To his surprise, the van pulls over. Eliot parks the cruiser and turns off the siren, leaving the lights going. “Keep your eyes up,” he tells Parker, even as she opens her door in unison with his.

Dressed in his hastily-donned PPD uniform, Eliot approaches the van carefully. In the side mirror, he sees a distinctive sheen and calls to Parker, “Gun!” She takes cover behind the van, but Eliot knows he can’t do the same. If he does, the omega in the back of the van is as good as dead. He needs to rush the gunman, blitz him before he can aim.

The driver’s door opens, the man behind it sticking his gun hand in the gap, aiming for Eliot.

Eliot slips to the side, then back again, slamming his shoulder against the door.

The gun clatters to the ground as Eliot wrenches the door back open. He pulls the driver out of his seat, meeting his face with a fist. Eliot’s vaguely aware of the rear door opening, and Parker lets out a grunt.

A few more hits and the driver is down, unconscious.

Eliot takes the cuffs from his borrowed belt and uses them to secure the driver’s arms behind his back. His face is kinda smushed up against the pavement, but Eliot doesn’t give enough of a shit to turn it for him.

Stalking to the back of the van, Eliot finds Parker wrestling a man twice her size… and winning.

He’s not gonna lie to himself. It’s one of the sexiest things he’s ever seen.

Peeking into the van, Eliot comes face-to-face with the distressed omega. Her fear reeks, and Eliot figures her kidnappers have to be betas. There’s no way an alpha could stand doing this to an omega, not if they had any sense of smell to begin with. Suzanna is bound at her ankles and her wrists. There are tears in her eyes, but otherwise she looks fairly unharmed. And ungagged. Eliot looks over at the kidnapper Parker’s wrestling and kicks him.

_Amateur_.

“Suzanna?” he asks the omega, making sure not to reach for her. He needs to help her feel safe and calm, and grabbing for her isn’t going to do that.

Her bound-together hands shaking, she points to Parker and the other kidnapper. “Don’t you need to help her?”

Turning to his partner, Eliot asks, “Hey, Park. You need a hand?”

Parker throws the kidnapper to the ground and locks her thighs around his neck, pulling on his arm to keep him in place. “Nah, I got it!”

Eliot smiles at her before turning his smile to the omega to reassure her. “She’s fine. You want to come with me? We can get you back home.”

She nods and inches toward the rear of the van. Eliot takes the butterfly knife out of his pocket and flicks it open. Gesturing to the zip-ties around her ankles, Eliot asks, “Can I cut those for you?”

Suzanna nods and holds still. As Eliot snaps first one zip-tie, and then the other, Parker arrives at his side with a satisfied sigh. Her bad guy is handcuffed and hogtied with what looks like his own shoe laces.

“That was fun!” she says, grinning at Suzanna. “You alright?”

The omega nods.

Hardison’s voice in his ear says, “Cops are pretty pissed about that cruiser you nabbed. They’re moving in quick.”

“Meet us around the block,” Eliot replies, pointing to his ear so Suzanna knows he’s not talking to her. He cuts the zip-ties around her wrist.

“Here’s the deal,” Parker says to Suzanna. “We’re here to help you, but we’re not exactly cops.”

“Oh, thank god,” she says, throwing her arms around Parker in a hug. “The cops were gonna make me go back.”

“Go back where?” Parker asks, but Eliot can hear the sirens in the distance growing closer.

He grabs Parker’s arm and shepherds her and the omega around the fast food joint and onto the residential street beyond. Lucille 3 pulls up to the curb and the sliding door opens. “Hey,” Hardison says. “What’s the situation?”

Pulling off the uniform shirt over his undershirt and throwing it into the van, Eliot asks Suzanna, “What were the cops gonna make you go back to?”

She gives a huff, wrapping her arms around herself. “You know that new Omega Safety Act?”

“Yeah,” Eliot tells her, noticing the frown on Alec’s face. “Your parents got you declared their ward?” he asks Suzanna, who nods.

Shaking her head, Parker says, “It’s sick. Otherwise competent adults are being…” She looks over at Hardison, who’s turned away from the conversation, giving a thousand-yard stare out the windshield.

Eliot grabs one of his flannels from the van and puts it on. “Come on. Let’s move. We can talk about it on the way.” He nods Parker and Suzanne into the back, then takes shotgun next to Hardison. He asks gently, “You want me to drive?”

“No,” Alec says, his jaw clenching. When Parker slides the back door shut, he puts Lucille 3 into gear and starts driving.

As rough and tumble as she can be, Parker is gentle when people need her to be. She draws the story out of Suzanne. “My parents sold my wardship to an alpha who lives in Healy Heights. He wants me to marry him and have his kids, but I can’t stand him. I was _this close_ to making it out of town before his guys grabbed me.”

“We can help you get out of town,” Parker told her, glancing up at Eliot, who gave her a nod. He wasn’t going to rest until Suzanna was safe, thousands of miles away with a new identity.

“I’ve been hearing chatter,” Hardison said, eyes still upfront as he turned back onto the through street and headed north toward the brewpub. “Seems like there’s a matchmaking site of sorts, on the dark web. Matches parents who need money with alphas of means.”

“You’d think alphas of means wouldn’t need to buy it,” Eliot muttered. He knew that he’d never been wanting for omega company, and until he’d started hitting for pay, he’d never had more than a few hundred bucks to his name.

“He’s _repugnant_ ,” Suzanne spit. “He’s an old, mean omegist. He’s the last person on earth I want to have kids with.”

“But once your parents made him your ward, the law says he makes all your decisions.” Parker scoffed. “We’ve got to do something about that law.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time we messed with legislation,” Hardison told her.

Eliot frowns. “Might be harder to get passed than that gymnastics bill.”

“I’ve been building a network online,” Hardison tells them. He still doesn’t look over at Eliot. “Organizing and funding activists. That sort of thing.”

Eliot can’t help but smile and reach over, putting his hand on Alec’s shoulder. “Of course you have.”

They pull up to the red light before the freeway on ramp. Hardison twists his neck and drops a kiss onto the back of Eliot’s hand. It’s a tiny scrap of affection, but Eliot soaks it up like the starving man he is. He can never get enough of either of them, but he knows better to let them see the depth of his desperation anywhere other than when they’re at home, alone.

~*~

Parker watches Suzanna George — now Laura Jenkins according to her new passport and birth certificate — join the security line at PDX airport. She turns and gives Parker a happy smile and a wave. Yeah, she’s gonna enjoy living in South Carolina, away from her parents and her would-be husband.

Beside her, Hardison waves back. He puts his arm around Parker’s waist and says, “I dug around in her dad’s computer, located the ‘matchmaking’ service her parents used.” The tone he uses is full of disgust.

Parker gets it. For people who grew up like they did, with nowhere and no one to really call _home_ , it’s tough learning about people whose family turned out to be worse than not having one. “Can we hack into the service? Find out who else has sold omega wardships?”

“Already done, baby,” Hardison says. “Wardships might be the law, but the sale of them is fraud. I’ve got DAs all over the country poised to press charges on behalf of all those omegas.”

“Members of your activist network?” Parker asks him, taking his hand as they turn and walk back toward where they left Eliot in his truck.

Hardison nods. “Yeah. They’re not gonna let this fall through the cracks. Not any more.”

“I’m proud of you,” Parker tells him, leaning close and kissing his cheek.

A soft smile spreads over his face. “You know, I’m glad we helped that girl, but you smelling like another omega is kind of creeping me out.”

Parker laughs and shakes her head before reaching out and opening the truck door for him. “Come on, Alec. We’ll go home and have a nice, hot bath. Will that do?”

“Scrubbing,” he says as he gets into the truck, scooting close to Eliot to make room for her on the bench seat. “There’s gonna have to be scrubbing.” He sniffs Eliot and makes a face that has Parker giggling as she sits next to him and closes the door behind her. “Lots of scrubbing.”

“Hey, I’m not gonna argue,” Eliot says as he pulls away from the curb. “Like I said, scared omega has a very—”

“Distinctive scent,” Parker and Hardison say in unison. Parker reaches past Hardison to give Eliot’s arm a playful squeeze. “Yeah, we know.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear what you thought in the comments! You can find out more about me and my writing [on my tumblr](https://pterawaters.tumblr.com/).


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